Poptropica: Gameshow Island
by Obsessivebookworm14
Summary: "Agent Clown, we want you to go to the Island and inform us of the events thats taken place since we lost contact.' "Since the robots took over, you mean." *sigh* "...Yes. Find the Inventor; he will know if anyone does." A novelization of Gameshow Island.


Gameshow Island Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Poptropica, Gameshow Island, or this plot. I don't even own Orange Clown or Funny Hippo as they are my character, and my friend's character, respectively.

**A/N:** Please enjoy!

Chapter 1: Welcome to Robotnia

Peering over the side of her hot air balloon, Orange Clown surveyed the land below her. It was the city of Robotnia or, as her co-workers had nicknamed it, Gameshow Island. A giant city, it sprawled in every direction and covered in miles of electrical cords. It looked as if everything was run by electricity, even the people. Which was only to be expected; the case file had mentioned that the island had been taken over by robots, led by one calling himself "Holmes". Holmes had been built by a man known only as the Inventor, for the purpose of winning game shows. Once Holmes had won however, he had taken over the island and declared robots the dominant species, if they could be called that. Little more was known about Holmes, or the Inventor, or even the island; for one of the first things that Holmes did was cut off all contact with the other Islands. Even the Poptropica Spy Academy's skilled team of spies couldn't get through the security without being caught.

Which was why Orange Clown was now crouching in her hot air balloon, only feet away from main street. If they couldn't get in by electronic means, then they would get in by human ones.

"_We just want to know what's going on there." Her superior, Funny Hippo, had said when dropping off the assignment. "See if you can find that Inventor- if anyone's to know what's really happening, it'll be him."_

"_And once I find out?" Orange Clown asked, leafing through the case file._

"_Contact us. You'll have to get off the island to do that, but don't go far- we may need you to do some more work there. Especially if something's wrong."_

"_Wrong? You mean more wrong than a robot declaring itself dictator?" she had joked half-heartedly_

"_Yes." Funny Hippo said simply. "Now get going. Your hot air balloon is waiting for you."_

* * *

Slipping down the rope ladder, Orange Clown glanced around Main Street. It was crowded with robots dashing to and fro. Several of them had humans following them around carrying umbrellas, bags and boxes. Others were gossiping, reading "Robot Weekly" or recharging themselves with the outlets scattered all over the buildings. No one seemed to notice her, and the few robots that did just sniffed (or as close as they could get) and walked by with their heads held high.

The building on her left appeared to be a bar of sorts. A huge sign on it said "Club Nouveau Riche" and a golden robot stood menacingly outside the door. Accidently catching his eye, Orange Clown quickly turned to look at the other building that flanked her balloon.

It was plainly a museum, with statues of robots lining the walkway. A small sign in one of the windows proclaimed:

"New Exhibit: The Triumph of Holmes! Learn about…

Holmes' humble beginnings as a Gameshow Bot!

His rise to power and the overthrow of the humans!

The villainy of the Inspector!

And much, much more!"

It was hardly a place to get an unbiased view of the matter, but Orange Clown thought that it would do for a starting point. It wasn't as if she knew where else to go.

Slipping into the crowd, she made her way over to the entrance. A blue light above the door blinked as she approached it, but it let her past. Breathing a sigh of relief, she looked around the museum. It was a sizable build, two stories tall. From what she could tell, most of the "art" seemed to be robot-versions of famous human sculptures and paintings. Unlike the busy street outside, this place was almost deserted. A lone robot was the only other person there, gazing at the portraits. Orange Clown almost felt her glare as she, Orange Clown, was noticed.

"Hmph! I thought this place was supposed to be "Robots Only"." She muttered balefully, turning away and stalking to another part of the museum.

Deciding to give the robot a wide berth (she didn't want to be thrown out before she learned what the exhibit was about) Orange Clown continued in the opposite direction. Her path led her to what she assumed was the gift shop. A human dressed in a cardboard robot outfit glanced up when she came in, and blinked in surprise.

"A human?" he blurted out, then quickly glanced around. "You're not supposed to be here!"

"Why not?" Orange Clown challenged him.

He sighed. "You're new here." He said this like it explained everything. "Watch the movie in the Hall of History, then I'll answer your questions." He refused to say anything more, shooing her out after checking to see that no robots were lurking.

The Hall of History was nearby. It contained only two items; a framed newspaper and a large TV set. _Guess the robots haven't been in power long enough to have lived much history._ She thought to herself. _But this is probably the video the gift shop employee told me about, not to mention being the exhibit I came to see._

Pulling out her notebook, she sat back to watch the show.

* * *

The first minute or so merely confirmed the information that she had been given by the PSA. Holmes had been built by a man calling himself the Inventor, won a lot of games, then took over. Homes' justification for taking over however, _that_ was new.

According to Holmes, he had been denied his rightful prize for winning _Brainiacs_; a brand-new Jet airplane that the Inventor claimed for himself. Holmes was apparently so angry about this that he built a who army of robots and entered them into game shows across the country. Once they had won enough money from the shows, they had established themselves as the rulers, renaming the capitol Robotnia. It seemed a bit overkill to Orange Clown, but then again, she wasn't a computer. Maybe they regularly plotted to take over islands. …And now she would never use _her_ computer again.

Anyway, despite taking over the island, Holmes still wasn't satisfied. The Inventor had gotten away with the airplane and apparently a huge hunt was on for him. Holmes wouldn't consider his revolution complete until the Inventor was found.

Turning off the TV, Orange Clown returned to the gift shop.

"What's with this place?" she asked the man, playing innocent. Perhaps she could get the human's side of the story now.

"We humans work for robots now." The man replied. "I hear the Inventor has a plan to save us, but he's in hiding."

_Then how do you know he has a plan?_ Orange Clown wondered. She wasn't about to ask him that though, he appeared to be willing to tell her information and she wasn't going to waste that by annoying him.

"Maybe I can find him." She said instead.

"Yes, it would be nice to go back to my job as a handyman. My toolkit hasn't been used in ages"

_So much for getting more information out of him. A toolkit would be useful though, especially if I have to break into one of these buildings. _She had no idea why she was thinking about the toolkit, but her instincts had never steered her wrong yet.

"Would you mind if I borrowed your toolkit?"

"I hid it on a nearby rooftop to keep it from the robots. Find it and its yours." He replied. Then, very quietly: "Good luck. You'll need it."

* * *

Emerging from the museum, Orange Clown looked upwards. _The gift-shop man said he hid his toolkit on a nearby roof, to keep if from the robots. And just why would the robots care if he had a toolbox or not?_ She shook her head. It wasn't important. _I should probably head around the back though. Even if most of the robots are determined to ignore humans, _someone_ would notice me climbing the buildings!_

She ducked into an alleyway, blessedly free on anyone- human or robot. Digging around in her backpack, she took out her chameleon suit and grappling bowtie, standard equipment for any PSA agent. Slipping them on she began to climb, the uneven bricks offering hand- and footholds. Pulling herself onto the roof of the Robot-Bling Botique, she held very still as a robotic waiter carried drinks of oil to the diners below. When he left, she slowly crept along the rooftop, pausing whenever she thought a diner was about to look her way. At long last, she was able to hide herself behind the chimney and plan._ If I were trying to hide something up here, where would I hide it?_ Orange Clown wondered to herself. Leaning against the chimney, she surveyed the skyline. _There are dozens of buildings that would qualify as 'near the museum'. Why am I trying to find this toolbox again?_

Shifting in place, her elbow banged into one of the bricks knocking it slightly loose. Biting back a yelp, Orange Clown turned to glare at the offending brick, then stopped. Something was hidden behind it.

Her throbbing elbow forgotten, Orange Clown carefully pulled the brick out. When that didn't bring the chimney crashing down, she removed a second one. There was definitely something there. Ignoring the suspicion that she knew exactly what it was, she removed a third brick before gently tugging the item out.

As she had half-suspected, it was the toolkit that she had just been thinking about.

_Why thank you, Karma._ Even she didn't know if that was supposed to be sarcastic or not. Carefully placing it in the bag with the rest of her PSA gear, Orange Clown began to creep back to the alleyway. After all, she might as well let the gift-shop guy know that she had gotten his toolbox.

* * *

After telling the guy that she had indeed found his toolbox (and being told in return that "I hope that toolkit can help you find the Inventor before the robots do.") Orange Clown wondered what on Earth she was supposed to do next. She had no idea where the Inventor might be hiding, or where she would learn where he could be hiding.

_Maybe this Island's branch of PAS would know where to start looking._ She thought to herself. Nearly every island had a headquarters for PAS. They weren't all as obvious as Spy Island's were; in fact most of them were pretty well hidden. A movie theater here, a party store there… last she had heard this one was a clothing store. Heading back into the alleyway (the last thing she wanted was someone asking her what she was doing) Orange Clown pulled out her map.

The PSA headquarters was very close by. In fact, it was right by the museum… it also happened to be the place she had just retrieved the toolkit from.

Rolling her eyes, Orange Clown started back over- on foot this time.

It would have been nearly impossible to ignore the giant television –_ robots did _nothing_ by halves_- at any other time, but it was particularly hard to ignore when it said things such as: 'ROBOTS RULE: Mechanical Domination Continues Unchecked.' She noticed that the robots seemed smugger (if that were possible) as they glanced at the television, while the humans just looked depressed.

_They can't have ruled for very long, not if they phrase it like that._ She noted, continuing on her walk. _Of course, it's only been a month or two since we lost contact with our agents. Hopefully they've learned something useful in that amount of time._

Stopping in front of the Robo-Bling Boutique, Orange Clown carefully checked to make sure that no one was watching (the only robot close to her seemed to be engaged in admiring himself in a handheld mirror) before quickly picking the lock.

Inside the store, it was deserted. Orange Clown felt a bit uneasy as she glanced around the messy room. Papers were scattered on the floor, electronic equipment were everywhere- _in plain sight if someone were to come in-_ and laser pens were mixed in with the antennas.

Her hands shaking slightly, Orange Clown automatically began to clean up –_if it's out it could be found, if it's found it could be used against you-_ before common sense kicked in. She had to see if anything here had a clue to what happened. Glancing at the papers she had collected, she saw that there was a –_status report, status report, status report_- note, written in one of the PSA's official codes.

Using her decoder, Agent Clown quickly translated the message.

_To the agent who finds this,_

_ If you're reading this, it means that we've had to run. (We would leave another note if arrested or killed, don't worry) Holmes has been attempting to track our reports, and he's almost succeeded. It's hard to defend against what you're using._

_ We've been trying to track down the Inventor and Agent, I hope you are too. We don't know where he is yet but talk to everyone. Many of the humans will help you- and some of the robots to, even if they're not aware that they're doing so. Check out the factory on the East side of town. They make very __**cool **__equipment and I'd recommend getting my hands on at least one of them. Also keep your eye on the Club Nouveau Rich. It's a very interesting place- They've had an unusual number of air conditioner breakdowns this last month._

_ Those are our only leads, Agent and they're shaky at best. We apologize for being so uninformed, but we're trapped. Holmes has found us. We will attempt to regroup and contact the PSA as soon as we can, but for now it is up to you who found this letter._

_Best of luck to you Agent,_

_The GS Island Team_

* * *

**A/N:** Welcome to the story!

I tried to keep the plot as close as I could to the actual island. I had to change some things slightly to make them work better in story format, such as the hiding place of the toolbox. In the game, _it was right in plain sight._ That's not hidden, at least not in my book.

PSA is the Poptropica Spy Academy. Just think of the place on Spy Island as one of their many headquarters, which is why your character is immediately addressed as "Welcome Agent *insert name here*" I included them because there must be a _reason_ your character is asked and trusted to do tasks the moment he/she arrives. They're agents sent to clean up whatever mess was just made. At least in my world, that is.

In case you were wondering, the 'Headquarters' on each of the Islands are the Common Rooms. A place where various agents can get together, talk, play games…

If you see any major problems with the plot, or minor problems with spelling and grammar, please tell me. I try to catch as many as I can (and spell-check really helps with this) but I am truly horrible at spelling.

Thanks for reading, and please review!


End file.
